


A Question of Marriage

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [20]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extreme Romione, F/M, On Marriage, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 11:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: It's Hugo's bedtime, but he has a question for his Mum about her and Dad...





	A Question of Marriage

               “Mum, do you have a spare quill?”

                Hermione was half-watching Rose and Ron play chess, half-reading Ginny’s latest article. She hadn’t heard Hugo come in.

                “I think so.” A quick, silent Summoning spell brought her quillbox to her, and she passed one to Hugo. “Do you need ink?”

                “No, Mum.”

                “Checkmate!” Rose said triumphantly. Ron groaned. “Alright, I can’t lose to you anymore, Rosie. Let’s put the board away.”

                “Why don’t you play Mum?” Rose suggested. “I’ve got to write to Al and Scorp.”

                “No thank you,” Hermione said politely. “Ron, we need to go over your accounts.”

                Ron grinned sheepishly. “Can’t it wait until later?”

                Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not unless you want to forget. Again.”

                “Alright, darling.” Ron stood. “I’m going to get some food.”

                “Don’t bring anything sticky!” Hermione chastised him as he left. She saw Hugo watching them intently.

                “What is it, Hugo?”

                “Nothing, Mum. I’m just going to…go upstairs and draw for a while before bed.”

                Hermione frowned. “Alright, but come down and say goodnight.”

                Hugo nodded silently and went back upstairs.

                Ron came back with a tray of crisps, slices of apple and glasses of mead. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

                “Look,” Ron said with a grin as he put the tray down. He held up a cloth she hadn’t noticed. “I came prepared.”

                Hermione tried to hide her smile.

                They worked together on the yearly accounts. Ron and George had both offered to pay her multiple times, but Hermione had always refused. She enjoyed maths, for one thing, and for another she knew that both of them had issues with numbers. They were brilliant at running the shop in every other way. Why shouldn’t she help Ron out when she had an evening free?

                Besides, Ron kept up a constant stream of Diagon Alley gossip and listened intently as she went over each regulation. He was improving, and Hermione knew he could probably do it on his own soon. She’d miss this.

                It was nearly ten when they finished, and Hugo still hadn’t come down. Shaking her head—Hugo had a tendency to forget bedtime—Hermione stood up. “Can you tidy up, love? I’m going to check on the kids.”

                “Sure.” Ron kissed her cheek and picked up the empty tray. “I’ll be up in a moment.”

                Hermione smiled as she watched him walk to the kitchen, then went upstairs.

                A quick tap on Hugo’s door went unanswered. Hermione tapped again, a bit harder. “Hugo? It’s time for bed, dear.”

                No answer.

                Perhaps he’d already fallen asleep? Hermione opened the door carefully. Hugo was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

                “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” Hermione asked exasperatedly. “It’s bedtime, Hugo.”

                Hugo blinked. “Sorry, Mum. I was…thinking.”

                “You must be thinking awfully hard,” Hermione said. She sat down next to him. “What’s going on?”

                “Why did you marry Dad?”

                The question surprised Hermione. “I married him because I was in love with him, Hugo. What brought this on?”

                “You’re not very alike,” said her suddenly alert ten year old son. “And you quarrel a lot.”

                “Hugo?” Now Hermione was worried. “You don’t have to be exactly alike to be married. And we do quarrel, but so do most married people.”

                Hugo sat up and looked at her too seriously for a child, her husband’s eyes looking at her. “Mum, are you and Dad going to get a divorce?”

                Hermione laughed. She couldn’t help it.

                “Of course not, Hugo. Don’t be silly. Why on earth do you think we would be?”

                “You’ve been fighting a lot this month. And that’s what Ricky says happen when people get divorced.”

                “Oh.” Ricky was Hugo’s friend. He lived a few streets over…and his parents were getting a divorce.

                “I knew I should have talked to you about that,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me this was bothering you?”

                “It wasn’t,” Hugo denied, lip trembling. “At least…Ricky’s happy, because he doesn’t like his Dad, and he’s going to live with his Mum. But I like you both, and I don’t want you to get a divorce.”

                Hermione hugged him close. “Darling, I promise you we’re not. We’ve been fighting for a couple of different reasons,” (dealing with Rose, Arthur’s heart attack, a potential promotion at the Ministry), “but you know we love each other.”

                “But you don’t like the same things,” Hugo protested. “Dad likes chess and Quidditch and pranks and you like books and music and writing! And when you fight you shout. Isn’t that bad?”

                Hermione laid her cheek against his curly brown hair. “Hugo, you don’t have to like all the same things to be in love.”

                “But maybe you do to be married.”

                “No, that’s not true at all.” Hermione closed her eyes as she thought about all those years at Hogwarts, as she tried to understand her own attraction to Ron, why even though they fought and she was exasperated by him she never felt safe unless he was there.

                “Hugo, do you love Rosie?”

                “Yes!”

                “But she doesn’t like to draw.”

                “She can’t draw,” Hugo corrected. “And she gets cranky when she tries.”

                “And she’s kept every drawing you’ve ever given her,” Hermione reminded him. “Every single one.”

                Hugo nodded.

                “When you’re married, it’s sort of the same thing. You each have your own things that you like, and sometimes you don’t like the same things and that’s okay. You learn to compromise, and sometimes you start to like them just because the other person does. I try to understand Quidditch and I love watching games with your Dad, and Dad likes listening to me read aloud and we listen to music together.” And sometimes they listened to music while they made love. They had the nights their children were conceived, but Hugo didn’t need to know that.

                “And I love your Dad for other things too. He’s strong, and kind, and he learns from his mistakes and admits them. I’m not so good at that, but he loves me anyways. And he helps me when I’m too stressed to see that I need a break, and I help him with numbers and with remembering where his shoes are.”

                Hugo giggled.

                “We got married after Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny because we had to take time and figure out if we could do this, Hugo.” Hermione could remember those arguments, the nights talking until dawn, the afternoons when they didn’t speak. “It wasn’t easy at first, but we loved each other enough to learn how to be good to one another. Marriage takes work, but it’s mostly very pleasant, and even though we quarrel, I love your Dad more than anything, okay?”

                Hugo nodded against her shoulder.

                “If something was wrong, we would tell you,” Hermione promised, guessing that Hugo had just been worried they hadn’t said anything. “And if it bothers you that we yell, we can stop yelling when we disagree. It’s just an old habit.”

                “Thanks, Mummy.” Hugo let go of her. “I’m tired now.”

                Hermione laughed and tucked him in. “Go to sleep, my son.” She kissed his forehead. “I’ll send Dad in, okay?”

                “Okay. Goodnight, Mummy. Love you.” Hugo’s eyes slid closed .

                Hermione opened the door and saw Ron standing in the hall. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Love you, ‘Mione,” he whispered into her hair. “Love you so _much_ …”

                She was never going to get poetry from this man. Never going to have long discussions about books or magical theory. But standing there in the hall outside their children’s bedroom, hearing the hitch in his breath, Hermione knew she had everything she needed, and everything she wanted.  

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed!  
> This week was supposed to be a breakdown of the relationships of the Next Gen, kind of like the one I did for the original ones. But guess who has no chill and is already 2,000 words in to the first one?  
> Hint: It's me. I am the one with no chill.  
> So...yeah. Those will be coming out one by one, but I thought I'd give a quick preview of one of the relationships (hint: Ricky's going to come back). And show bunches of support for Romione, because it makes me sad that JK thought they would have such a tumultuous relationship.  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
